Snowy Field
by loveboylove
Summary: Walking through snow can be difficult for even those accustomed to such events. However, Berwald finds he doesn't mind much in this case when he's joined by a not so unexpected companion. Day 2 of the 30 day OTP challenge.


Day two of the 30 day OTP challenge, huzzah! The prompt this time is cuddling somewhere and, since there's no snow where I live right now, I thought I'd make some appear in my work. c: As a side note, I'd like to mention now that I'll be using different names for some of the characters that don't have canon human names than the rest of the fandom. In this fic, that means Norway's name is going to be "Eirik" instead of "Lukus". I hope that clears everything up! ^^ Please feel free to comment and give constructive criticism if you deem it necessary.

I don't own Hetalia or the characters in this work of fiction.

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The world was white, grey, and muddy brown like someone had stuck a blade into the landscape and bled out all vibrant red and yellow and orange that had made the trees and ground appear as though they were being burned. Gone was the azure sky blue enough to cause even the most diehard of busybodies to pause in what they were doing and allow themselves to be mesmerized heavens. That celestial sphere was now overtaken by a single sheet of grey that burned the eyes of any who gazed upon it and reflected down onto the snow covered field which also had a blinding effect.

Berwald lay in this field clad in a thick, blue jacket, snow gloves, gray pants that were darker than the color of the sky, black snow boots, and a warm blue hat complete with earflaps and tassels concealed his corn blond hair. The man was still and silent except for the expanding and contracting of his chest in breath and the sound of air rushing through his nose and throat echoed particularly loudly in the Swede's ears when there was not another living being around for miles. Or so he thought.

Sound traveled far over the snowy ground and, soon, he could hear the crunch of someone approaching. The footsteps took their time in getting there but, once arriving, the feet that had been making the noise stopped by Berwald's left side and stood there for a moment. A heavy sigh laced with a small amount of aggravation escaped the one standing by the Swedish man before there were more crunching sounds as the person lowered themselves down onto their knees in the snow and something was set down onto the white. A quiet fumbling through fabric was heard and then he felt the familiar sensation of the earpieces, temples, and bridge of his glasses resting on his face.

He could feel his lips twitching upwards briefly at the corner and knew that, had he opened his eyes then, they would have been met by blue-violet pools that reflected a small amount of irritation and were framed by hair sandy blond in color. But Berwald didn't open his eyes and, instead, he tugged the now kneeling man to his chest into an embrace that was neither ironclad nor demanding but was still received by a grunt from the Norwegian.

Another sigh passed through Eirik's lips before he pushed the Swede away ever so slightly to situated himself so that he was tucked into the taller man's side with his head resting on the other blonde's shoulder. Reaching out a hand, the broader of the two found another that was also clad in a glove and he laced their fingers together so that their palms were pressed against each other and rested in-between the two figures. All was quiet for several minutes stretching into an eternity as the men breathed in the crisp air and exhaled at the same time.

"You left your glasses at home."

"Mm."

A pause and Berwald could almost feel the arched eyebrow he was surely receiving from his lover.

"Did you slip and fall?" It was a silly question, really. The tracks the Swedish man had left previously lead to this point before his foot had encountered a particularly icy rock and he had slid forward to fall onto his face and then roll over.

"Yes."

A snort was the answer he was given as well as an admonish of, "Clumsy."

"Thank you for my glasses."

"Hm."

"And for the cocoa."

"I made that for myself."

"Will you share?"

The Norwegian allowed a pause to stretch and Berwald silently counted in his head how many seconds it would take for Eirik to pretend to think about the question. "I suppose I shall."

Another tiny smile tugged the taller blonde's lips upwards and, leaning over, he rested his nose into the other man's light colored hair. "Thank you."

"Of course."

Another comfortable silence fell over the companions as they merely enjoyed in the unexpected but welcome closeness and listened to their breathing blend into one.


End file.
